People Make Mistakes
by PokoCCS
Summary: Instant Star, JudeTommy. It's Jude's 18th, Tommy comes back, the whole shebang. Read and review, please.
1. This is A Cheesy Title About Birthdays

Alright, so I've only ever written fanfiction once before in my life. It was okay. I don't think I've ever been much of a writer, but I try. I'd love feedback, even suggestions of what you want to happen. So telll meeee... :)

**Disclaimermabobber:** Shoot. The chances of me ever owning Instant Star are higher than the chances of me ever winning the lottery. And my parents buy tickets every day...

...Yeah, right. Chances still low. And you know if I owned Instant Star, Tommy and Jude would already be a couple. I'm gonna stop ranting now. And this disclaimer goes for the whole story. If this superlarge A/N is any insight to the story, I hope it's good news cues. Good news cues. I know I'm really weird. I've got marching band in a few hours so I'm kinda flipping out. I'm also kinda digressing.

(I may do that a lot, by the way. Fair warning.)

PG-13? Sure. The rating _may_ change in the future. May or may not. Keep that in mind.

This is written in Jude's POV. Unless otherwise noted.

---ONWARDS!---

Eighteen. So I'm finally eighteen.

It's crazy, if you think about it. I've been through so much in the past 3 years. Ever since I won Instant Star, my life has been far from that- my own. Between the press, the tours, the talk shows, and everything else that comes with fame and fortune, I've hardly had time to breathe. And here I am, 3 years later. Finally an adult. Finally a woman.

I know I should be getting some sleep. It's a little past midnight, and here I am being all philosophical. I've got a huge birthday bash being thrown for me tonight, and tons of planning for it. But I _just can't sleep_. Why can't I sleep?

_You know why. _

Okay, so maybe I do. Maybe in the back corner of my head, where I keep all those feelings locked away. But I'm not gonna think about that now. I'm not gonna think about _him_ now. I just need some sleep.

I spend the rest of my night tossing and turning, trying to keep my head clear. I get a mere 2 or 3 hours of sleep. And the last thing I needed was my mom and Sadie invading my bedroom at 8 in the morning. Granted, they did bring me chocolate chip pancakes. And a stack of presents.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONEY!" was the greeting I got from my mom. Rise and shine. You're only eighteen once.

"_Mom_. It would have been nice to have gotten a warning last night that you were gonna come busting in on me this morning."

"Oh come on, Jude! It's your birthday," Sadie said, "And what better way to celebrate than with your favorite pancakes, presents, and of course, your favorite sister."

I groaned. "You're my only sister, first of all. And secondly, my thoughts exactly. It's my birthday. Therefore, I make the decision on when we get to celebrate. And we get to celebrate after I get another good few hours of sleep."

My mom, being the overenthusiastic person that she is, doesn't like my plan. "Honey, look, the pancakes are still hot. And the presents.. just think of the presents..."

...This is a losing battle.

The next half hour is spent unwrapping presents and laughing with my mom and older sister. A new pair of boots, a guitar pick necklace, a couple of CDs, and as a joke, one of those Chinese cat bobbleheads from Sadie.

"For your dashboard on that hot little car of yours," she said with a laugh. I laughed back, remembering our first and last trip to Chinatown. That was one hell of an experience.

After my awesome breakfast-in-bed and present opening ceremony, I get ready for the day. I'm needed at G-Major headquarters to put the finishing touches on my party. I'm not so nervous about it, since I know what's gonna happen. Georgia's gonna explain what there's gonna be to do and get the finished list of who's coming. My producer, Jay, is gonna work with Kwest to figure out what tracks we're spinning. And EJ's gonna pull me away for another one of her "fashion emergencies".

So basically, my job is to pick out an outfit and to stay out of everyone else's way.

I leave the house after plenty of hugs and I-love-you's, and hop into my red Mustang convertible. A gift on my 17th birthday from both of my parents. It's especially important to me because my parents collaborated in getting me the gift, even after their rough times. I peel the cover off of the sticky styrofoam on the bottom of the bobblehead Sadie gave me and stick it to the dash. I think I'll name it later. Or maybe I'll just name it after Kat. She'll love that.

During the drive to G Major, I have plenty of time to think. And I guess I like that, considering I hardly ever get the chance, except today is one of those kinds of days where I don't _want_ to think.

_It's my eighteenth birthday. I'm all grown up._

It's like my Mantra for the day. Maybe I'll get through the next 24 hours if I just keep saying that.

Waiting at a stop light, I flick my new cat bobblehead and let my mind wander. Watching the little good luck cat's head, I remember a certain hula-dancer toy much like this bobblehead. And then I'm mad at myself. Because then I remember Tommy.

_Tommy_.

Not today, I can't think about this or him today. Why today of all days? Well, I know why, but I'd rather not be honest with myself. He's one of those things I keep locked up in the back of my head. I'm not going there, not today.

A car behind me honks it's horn and I could swear someone's shouting obscenities. Shaking my head of the thoughts, I drive the rest of the way to G Major thinking about the party.

As soon as I'm out of the car and in the building, EJ's bombarding me with happy birthday wishes and info. I have to give a speech tonight, say my thank you's and what not.

"Oh, and you have to pick your dress, of course," she says, baring her teeth.

She rushes me off and I barely have a chance to register the speech thing. Of course. A speech. I've always been bad at those.

"So we have a selection of dresses for you again, of course. All your size. Shoes, hair, makeup, handbags, you name it, we got it."

"Wow, EJ. You never cease to amaze me..."

We've entered a room equivilant to a diva's dressing room. Or maybe a department store. There's clothing racks with dresses in every material and color by every famous designer label out there. There's boxes of shoes on display ranging from flats to stilettos. And there really was just about everything in the room that I'd ever need.

"I feel like it's my sweet sixteen all over again." I said, taking in the room.

"This birthday's gonna be good enough to rival your prom. Now start picking!" EJ shoves me a little further into the room.

EJ would be the best person to go shopping with. She really knows what she's doing. I'm not necessarily lacking in the clothing department, or anything, it's just nice to have a little advice. Especially on my big night.

"I love this dress!" I exclaim a half hour later. We've gone through maybe 10 dresses out of a possible 50. I fall in love with a strappy dark blue empire dress with black mesh overlay. It's a winner, and I already know it.

EJ starts picking out shoes. "You'll definately want heels with that dress, to give you a few good inches." She's about to hand me a pair of silver heels when Georgia walks in, knocking on the doorframe.

"Happy birthday Jude. Sorry to interrupt, I hope everything's going well?"

"Thanks, Georgia. Like my dress? I'll definately be wearing this one tonight." I smile, feeling excited and glamorous.

"It's beautiful. You look like a princess," Georgia replied jokingly. But immediately after the comment, her face set into a more serious look. "EJ, can I have a word with you for a minute?"

"You won't miss me, I'll be back in a sec, Jude." EJ said, leaving the room with Georgia.

"But EJ! Who will help me pick my shoes! I'll _die_ if they don't match..."

Georgia shuts the door behind EJ and I'm left to myself again. More time to think.

My fingers run over the different handbags. Do I want a purse? One of these wristlet things? Do I want Jamie to just hold my cell phone again for me like he did last time?

No, I decide. Things are gonna be different this time. This party is going to be great. No flaws. No mistakes or regrets. And just to make sure, I decide to opt for a handbag instead of Jamie's coat pocket. Everything will be different this time. Especially since he won't be there.

_Nothing can go wrong this time._


	2. Still Under My Skin

**A/N...rock on:**

Alright, I get to rant for a few moments and explain this whole story. _There is no plotline_. I'm not much of a writer- I write when I'm inspired and shut up otherwise. So it's gonna be updated on/off, I'm really sorry about that. I personally hate when fanfic authors wait like 2 weeks to update their stories. Actually, I hate when they wait more than 3 days.

Anyway, I've written probably 2 other chapters so far excluding this one, so you'll definately get at least that far within the next week... School starts for me in literally 6 days so if there's a lack of updates, I apologize.

Oh, yeah. And I promise, Tommy _does_ enter the story eventually. _In the flesh..._

Also, anyone have any ideas for a title? Reviews/Feedback/ect... greatly appreciated. You could bash me, for all I care, at least you'd be being honest.

----I'll shut up now----

**Georgia and EJ's conversation**... (I wasn't sure how to put this in the story, seeing as how it's Jude's POV. I figured the best way was to just make this part in third... Also, I hope the change in tense doesn't bother anyone)

Georgia lead EJ into her office and took a seat behind her desk. EJ sat in one of the chairs in front of Georgia's desk.

"I received a call a few minutes ago from a certain Tommy Quincy..."

EJ gasped. "No, way. Tommy? What for?"

"You know what for. He wants his job back." Georgia smirked.

"Way to be subtle. Trying to weedle back into producing on her birthday?"

"I know." Georgia started ruffling through papers on her desk, sorting them out and trying to pretend the matter wasn't serious.

"And what did you say? You didn't give him the job back, did you?"

Georgia stopped moving papers. She sighed. "It was a tough decision. I know how it was between him and Jude. I know how much it broke her when he left. But let's be honest; he's a damn good producer, and he and Jude work well together."

EJ sat up straighter. "You gave him the job back? No way. Are you gonna tell Jude? You _have_ to tell her. This is amazing news. But who knows how she's gonna react to it-"

"I gave it some thought. Today's her big day. I think the last thing she'll want to hear is that Tommy is back."

EJ grinned like a chesire cat. "Or maybe it's the _first_ thing she'll want to hear. And anyway, won't he want to come to the party tonight?"

"He gave her a world of hurt. I'm not so sure she'll forgive him right away." Georgia frowned. _And I wouldn't blame her if she didn't_, she thought. "He wasn't invited to the party, was he?"

"No, he wasn't. But if he works for G Major now, he has every right to come."

"But he's not on the guest list," Georgia pointed out.

"Maybe he should be. Maybe it'd be a nice surprise for Jude," she prodded.

"...You're in charge of the invite list, EJ. You make the decision."

EJ grinned. "Great! I better get back to Jude, then. We're picking out her shoes."

----Jude's POV----

EJ comes back into the room with an unreadible expresson her face, but I think nothing of it. She goes straight back to the prospect of tonight's outfit and within the next hour my entire outfit's planned out and ready to go. Surprisingly, all of this girl talk and planning already has me exhausted.

With my part of tonight's plan complete, I head out into the lobby and collapse on the couch. There's chaos all around me. Things are being moved in and out, and not too long after I hit the couch I'm being asked to get up so that it can be taken away.

_Great, now where to do I rest_, I thought tiredly. I curse myself for my inability to sleep last night when Georgia spots me and waves to me from across the room. She closes up her conversation with Kwest and heads over to me. She's got the same unreadible expression as EJ had on earlier.

"Jude. Hey. How are you feeling?"

Tired? Really tired. But excited.

"I'm great. I can't wait for this party. It's gonna be so much better than my 16th."

Georgia smiles. "You'll love it. We'll have a corner of the room set up for viewing/listening to your new single like last time. You'll get to do a live performance, give your speech, be all prettied up thanks to EJ-"

"About EJ, Georgia," I interrupted. "I know it's probably none of my business, but what did you pull her out for earlier? When she came back in she was kind of... I don't know. Expressionless? Like she was trying to hide something."

I try to read her face, but nothing comes across. She's as indecipherable as ever. "It was nothing, just party planning stuff. You have nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure? You're not hiding anything from me, are you?" I joked.

Georgia smiled. "Birthdays are always full of surprises..." She got up and walked off.

I figured after a few minutes that since my job was done, the best thing to do would be to go home and rest. A nap sounded really appealing at the moment. I wouldn't have to be back at G Major until 6, which left me plenty of time to eat, sleep, and mull over the 18 long years of my life with Jamie and Kat.

I kept my windows rolled up and my radio off during the drive home, both unsual for me. There weren't any sounds other than the car's engine and the occasional tinkle from the bobblehead, which turned out to be really distracting. Every time I stopped the car I snuck a glance at the little porcelain cat. And every time I looked at that cat, I thought of that stupid hula dancer and that stupid Tommy.

By the time my car's parked in my driveway, I'm convinced that the cat is an omen. Why am I thinking about him so much now? For the past 1 and a half years, he hasn't been a part of me. But now he's back, and I figure I can blame it on the cat. Blame it all on the inanimate object. Of course.

I must be going crazy in the head.

As soon as I'm home, I raid the fridge for a snack. Sitting on a stool in the kitchen, I lean my elbows against the cold countertop of the island and admit defeat. _It's about time,_ a little voice inside me says.

I give in and let myself remember. It hurts to remember, but I know that someday I'll have to, and that someday is now. It feels right to try to clear things up in my mind. Maybe because now I'm 18.

Flashback

_Tommy's sitting in his chair, rubbing his temples. It's clear how frustrated he is with me right now._

"_Jude, you gotta understand. You of all people should understand..."_

_I'm near tears. "I know, Tommy! I know how much you want a solo career. I know..."_

"_So then why is this so hard for you?" He asked for the millionth time, exhasperated._

"_Come on, Tommy! As soon as we finish my first album, you spring this on me? One album and now you wanna quit? I can understand if you want a solo career, but can't you keep producting me, too?"_

_I pace the room, trying to fight back the wave of hurt. He's leaving me, he's leaving me. He can't possibly be..._

"_Jude, it doesn't matter who your producer is. You're gonna be a star, no matter what. You don't need me around for that."_

"_Maybe I do!" I cried. "Maybe I do need you, Tommy. There's no on else I'd rather have around to help me through this."_

_Tommy leaned further back into his chair and spun it around, facing away from me. He stands up and walks across the room until he's right in front of me. He grabs my wrists gently and looks me in the eye._

"_You know how much I need this.It's my dream, it's been my dream ever since Boyz Attack ended."_

_I pulled my wrists out of his grasp and looked away. "I know, okay? I know, I know, I know! But Tommy..."_

End Flashback

I pull myself out of Dreamland and face reality. It's time to stop remembering and start living.

_I can't think about this, not now._

By now I'm angry. Angry at myself and at Tommy and at the world. 1 and a half years later and he's still under my skin.

_He's still under my skin._

I let out a frustrated groan and kick the fridge on the way to my bedroom. I need sleep.


	3. Best Friends Always Know

**A/N:** Jamie and Kat? No more. They stayed friends mainly for Jude's sake. I just don't wanna write a whole chapter about Jamie and Kat... so I'm cheating and just telling you now. heehee.

Also, do they even have The OC in Canada? If I had my way, Canada and the US would have all the exact same TV shows. And then that way, Season 1 of IS would already be over for us by now.

_Also_, you may have noticed that Tommy has yet to make an appearance in the story... But don't worry, he will. You're just gonna have to be patient. :-P And if I were you, I would be about ready to kill me. 'Cause I lack patience.

--Anyway--

I woke up from my nap at around 3PM. Feeling well-rested, I called up Jamie and Kat and invited them over. Who better to spend the next 3 hours with than my two best friends?

As soon as they both came over, I introduced them to my new bobblehead and we officially christened her "Kat". Well, sort of. I just got Kat's approval.

After the "christening" of Kat, we headed inside to chat and watch OC reruns (to Jamie's objections).

"So, Jude. Finally eighteen. We're all officially adults now!" Kat exclaimed. Me being the youngest of the 3 of us, my birthday was always the biggest because it was the milestone for all 3 of us. We'd all finally made it to adulthood.

"Yeah, Jude. Excited about tonight? Well, I mean, of course you are." Jamie grinned kind of sheepishly.

On the TV, The Mallpisode began. It's secretly my favorite OC episode. Who wouldn't want to be trapped in a mall overnight with your friends?

"Uh huh," I said, trying to pretend I was distracted by the show.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kat and Jamie raise their eyebrows. _Damn best friends.They always know._

Jamie spoke first. "Jude, I mean, if you wanna talk-"

"We're here, and we're all ears," Kat finished.

Their eyes bore into my skull until I finally took my eyes off the TV screen. "It's nothing, really. I mean, I'm just nervous, okay? It's the big one-eight. This party's gonna be huge. Let's brainwash ourselves with OC-Goodness and not talk about it, okay?"

Jamie found this an acceptable answer (being Jamie) and went back to the show. Kat however, who is female and therefore better accomplished in the language of Girl Speak, grabbed the remote and hit pause.

"Hey!" Jaime protested. "What gives?"

"This isn't about _him_, is it?" Kat asked quietly.

Jaime immediately sat up straighter. "About who? Who is she talking about, Jude?"

I squirmed in my seat on the couch. "Do we have to talk about this? Now?"

Kat sighed. "Jude. It's been ages. You said you were over this."

"Over _what_?" Jaime cried. "Jude, who is this guy!"

"We're talking about Tommy, you nit-wit," Kat snapped. "Now shut up, unless you have something positive to put in. And Jude, don't say you weren't thinking about him," she said as soon as she noticed that I was about to protest, "because it's not Jaime you're talking to."

"Hey!" Jaime cried again.

"Shut up, Jaime. You're starting to sound like a parrot. Only a parrot probably would have caught on quicker than you," Kat mumbled.

"Ah, okay, I see how it is," he replied. "That was Girl Speak, wasn't it? Of course it was. And you expect me to understand Girl Speak!"

"No," Kat said with a smile. I couldn't help laughing at the offended look on Jaime's face. Leave it to my best friends to take my mind temporarily off of things.

Jaime got up. "Fine, I see how it is. I know when I'm not wanted." He headed for the front door. "See you at your party tonight, Jude."

"Bye, Jaime."

As soon as the front door shut, Kat pounced on me. No pun intended. "All right, so wht's been on your mind? It _is_ Tommy, isn't it?"

When I didn't reply, she squealed. "I knew it! Oh man, but why? I mean, he didn't call you or anything, did he?"

"No..."

"But then, why are you thinking about him now? I mean, it's been so long..." she trailed off.

"I know. But it's my 18th, you know? And I guess..." She waited for me to finish. "I can't help wondering what could have been, you know? If we'd just stuck it out for a few more years," I said in a rush.

"Well," Kat said slowly, "It was his decision to leave, wasn't it? So it wasn't your fault."

"I know, but I could have pulled for him to stay a little longer, you know?" When Kat just stared at me, I said, "But what can I do about it. He's gone now. And I'm over him..."

"You sure about that?" Kat questioned.

I avoided her eyes and replied, "Yeah! Yes. Absolutely. I just couldn't help wondering."

"Since today you're officially legal," Kat added, figuring it out on her own.

I blushed and pretended I didn't hear her, picking up the remote. "Let's ditch the OC and make some sundaes. I'm really craving some ice cream right now."

For the next hour, Kat and I had Girl Time and talked about anything and everything not involving Tommy Quincy.I could tell she wanted to talk about it but I changed the subject any time we got too near his name.

But right before she left, she forced me back into the conversation. She was about to head out the door when she stopped and turned around. I knew she was gonna ask, but I let her anyway. "But you've read about Tommy in the papers and stuff, right?"

_Of course I have_, I thought. All the hookups, breakups, good news and bad. I owned multiple copies of his CD, DualDisc, Limited Edition, even the US version. I kept a poster from one of his concerts that I got from eBay rolled up in my closet. I almost went to one of his concerts, for Christ's sake, before I talked myself out of it. _The last thing I want is to become another one of his fan girls_.

"Yeah, every once in a while," I shrugged, as if it didn't matter to me. But if I was honest with myself, it did- the last thing I'd heard about Tommy was that he and his latest girlfriend broke up. Granted, that was a month ago. Who knows what he's been up to lately?

"He's single..." Kat said, almost as if reading my mind.

I felt my face get a little flushed, and I didn't doubt that Kat saw it. "Well, that doesn't really affect me, considering I'm no longer a part of his life..."

Kat gave me an apologetic smile while I avoided her gaze. "I'll see you in 2 hours. In the meantime, you go get all dolled up and ready for your party. Next time I see you, you'll probably be beating guys off with a stick."

"I'll just hire Jaime as my bodyguard for the night," I laughed, closing the door behind Kat. _Jaime as a bodyguard...that'd be something_.


	4. People Make Mistakes

QUICK FILLER... To explain some things, this is a shortish chapter. Thanks to BiWiccanPrincess for the suggestion... Here is a lil insight into the current going ons of Jude and her dad... and... well. Read.

I'll try and update again tomorrow.

_I'm late I'm late I'm late... latelatelate this is bad..._

Just as I'm heading out the front door, my cell phone goes off. I pause with my hand on the doorknob and whip out my phone, hitting the receive button without bothering to check for the number.

"Hello?" I ask. I'm out of breath from running around the house, trying to find my car keys.

"Jude. How are you?" My dad's voice comes out of the speaker.

If I was breathless from running around, I'm amazed that I didn't die from lack of oxygen right then and there.

"...Dad? Um. Hi. Nice to hear from you. I guess." Is all I can muster. When really, I'd love to be saying a thousand things right now. The same thousand things that ran in my head every time he tried to come in contact with me. But I hadn't thought about those things in a while. _Because he hasn't tried to talk to me in a while._

"Honey, I called to say happy birthday. And also that I'll be at your party tonight..."

I cut in. "With Yvette?"

"Well, yes. Unless of course-"

"No, you know what, Dad? Fine. It's fine. I don't care. I couldn't care less about her."

"Honey, now wait a minute..."

"How about not? Dad, why are you calling me? Why are you even coming tonight?" I'm on the verge of tears by now. My voice starts to choke up and I'm not sure at this rate that I'll ever make it out the door.

"Jude, it's your eighteenth birthday. My last daughter is all grown up. I couldn't possibly miss this."

I don't say anything. I mentally tell myself to breathe. I finally let go of the doorknob I've been gripping so tightly and fall back against the wall.

"You know I still love you."

And suddenly, I'm angry. More angry than I have been a long time. "Yeah, _Dad_, of course you do. You always have, haven't you? Even after breaking Mom's heart, and hurting the entire family over it, and moving in with Yvette, and not even trying to contact me for the past _year_!" I screamed into the phone. "And you still love me, don't you?"

"Jude, you don't understand."

"Of course," I laughed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I never understood the love you had for Yvette. And how it was so much stronger than the love you had for Mom. I'm sorry, Dad. Does that make you feel any better? Do you feel less guilty now for tearing the entire family apart?"

On the other end of the line, I heard him sigh. "We should talk about this in person. Some other time. Tonight I would just like to wish my girl a happy birthday, a good life. And Yvette would, too."

"Fine, Dad. Whatever." I hung up, not even bothering to say goodbye.

I took a few minutes to calm myself down and make sure I wouldn't crack. Just as I'd pulled myself together enough to finally leave the house, I remembered a conversation I'd had before, about my dad. My hand froze in midair while reaching towards the doorknob.

"_He loves you, you know that."_

_  
"Yeah, okay, I know you're trying to soothe me and whatever, but it's not gonna work. If he loved me, he wouldn't have done this to me. Or Mom, or Sadie. If he loved any of us..."_

"_So he made a mistake! People make mistakes, Jude. You'll learn to forgive him in time."_

"_Then maybe I'm just not ready to forgive him yet, Tommy."_

"_You will, though. If you love someone enough, you'll always forgive them."_

I let out an involuntary groan and forced myself to open the door. "Great. I was late enough in the first place..."

Leaving the house and locking the door behind me, I let one thought surpass myself before putting the barriers back up again.

_Proved you wrong there, Quincy. 'Cause I sure as hell never forgave you._


	5. Studio B

So I went back and edited this chapter, 'cause I felt like it, and now hopefully all of it is past tense and not so much crazy talk. Yes, there will be a chapter 6 up soon... This is probably going to be a loooong story. I have an idea of where it's going, it just may take a while to _get_ there... By the way, do you guys like happy endings? Me, I personally like them. But I've always been very angsty too, so it's hard to say which is better in a fic.

Read and review? 'Cause then I'll love you! (I'm not much of a poet)

----

_Here I am. Eighteenth birthday party. Standing "backstage"... and in a moment I'm gonna walk out there and be greeted by paparazzi, friends and family._

As Kwest announced my name and spun my still-favorite song, "24 Hours," I prayed I wouldn't trip and fall flat on my face, took a deep breath, and walked around to the front of the screen that provided to be the backdrop of the stage.

I was greeted by applause and cheers. I waved to my friends and family and smiled cheesily for the camera. And then I got this strange feeling. Like someone was watching me.

_Of course someone's watching you. All eyes in the room are on you._

I looked around, trying to find the source of my shivers. The room was the right tempurature, and nothing seemed out of place. I shrugged the feeling off, wrapping my shawl tighter around my shoulders.

The next half hour or so is a huge blur. I give my speech and pride myself in getting a couple of laughs from my audience. I do a performance of, "Again," one of my favorite tracks on my newest album. And then I'm off the stage, the camera bulbs have stopped flashing, and I'm back with Jaime and Kat.

"Oh, my God, I swear you always sound amazing on stage!" Kat was jumping up and down.

"Yeah, I guess I'll need Jaime to be that bodyguard pretty soon, huh..." I joked. We both had a laugh while Jaime stared on, confused. He opened his mouth to say something, and then suddenly frowned.

"Oh, come on, Jaime. Like you wouldn't want to be a bodyguard. Tough job for a tough man like you..."

"No, it's not that. I don't know what the hell you guys are talking about, but your phone's ringing, Jude." He pulled my cell phone out of his pocket, and I realized that I left it on vibrate.

"Sorry," I said with a laugh, then grabbed the phone and walked off to the corner of the room for some privacy. I flipped open my phone and gasped.

_Tommy Q?_

The photo is unmistakeable. The name, the number, both unmistakeable.

_What should I do? Should I pick up? Oh my God..._

Before I tear myself up over the possibility that Tommy is actually calling me, I hit the receive button and tell myself to suck it up. I don't say anything.

"...Jude? Are you there?"

_Okay, breathe. Breathe. Don't hyperventillate._

I sucked in a deep breath. "Tommy. Hi."

"Hey." And then it's silent.

"...Happy birthday, girl."

I blush, despite my surroundings. _Of course he's calling you_, I scolded myself. _It's your birthday. And what could he_ possibly _want from you on your 18th birthday..._

"Thanks."

"Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

"What?" I'm confused. "We're kind of on our cell phones right now, Tommy, nobody else is listening..."

"I mean, can you go someplace private? I know you're at your party. I can hear everything going on in the background."

I smacked my forhead. Of course. "Uh, yeah. Right, I'll go where people can't hear me." I paused. "Which is where?"

"Go to Studio B, Jude."

I stayed silent. Studio B? Ever since Tommy left, I'd been working in Studio A. I hadn't set foot into His studio since my first album finished.

"It'll be silent in there. Just go, Jude."

"Okay..."

I'm not sure what posessed me to follow the instructions of a 25-year-old man who hasn't spoken to me since I was 16, but I do. I make sure nobody's watching before I slip into the Studio. I shut and lock the door firmly behind me.

It feels weird to be back in here, after all that time. I shook off the memories threatening to drown me. I turn towards the glass wall and watch my reflection.

"Okay," I said again, once out of anyone's earshot. "What is it you want to talk about? And can you hurry, 'cause it's kind of my party and I really should be out there talking it up or whatever-"

"Jude."

I turned my head away from the glass and gasped audibly as the swivel chair in front of me spun in it's spot. My phone slipped from my grasp and he caught it just in time. Was he really sitting just feet from me, and I had no clue?

"Tommy." My voice comes out strangled. It couldn't possibly be him. Here. Not now.

He smiled and stood up. He handed the phone back to me after ending his call. "Might wanna be careful with this thing. The last thing you need is for it to get smashed up."

"It's really you..." I whispered. I'm sure that all the color has drained from my face.

He grins at me. "In the flesh, girl."


	6. Not So Happy Birthday

**A/N:** Oh em gee. He's finally in the story.  
Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been settling into school and being a giant lazy butt. Well, when it comes to school, anyway. I've been spending Latin class writing for this story. This may unfortunately have an indirect result in my grade on tomorrow's test...

* * *

I'm not sure how long it's silent. My heart was beating so hard I was afraid he could hear it. After a few moments of awkward silence, he cleared his throat. 

"Came to wish you a happy birthday." He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans and smiled a little nervously.

After another moment's pause, my brain finally registers what's going on. _Tommy Quincy. In Studio B. With me. 18th birthday. Pull yourself together!_

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my voice even. "Why are you here?"

He gave me a confused look. "Because it's your birthday?"

I'm just as confused as him. "So you decide to come back after a year and a half just because it's my birthday." By now, I'm starting to get riled up inside. _What is he doing here? And who does he think he is?_

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. I watch him play with the mixing board a little and I can tell he's trying to think. I decide not to play nice, not with him. "I haven't got all night, Tommy. It's kind of my party going on out there and I need to get out and mingle."

He laughs at this, turning his attention from the mixing board to me. "You never did like 'mingling'."

I don't let myself smile. I don't bother to respond, either. I just gave home as cold a stare as I could muster.

"Look, Jude... I came back because..."

Awkward silence, once again. Which only angered me more.

"Because what? Because I'm _eighteen_ now? Is that it? Because now we can finally be together!"

"Now, Jude-"

"_Maybe_ I don't _want_ to be with you. Maybe I don't even want to be in this room with you right now."

"...Then you're not gonna like what I have to tell you."

"Too be honest, I hardly ever like anything you say to me."

He grimaces, and I know I've hurt him. But I don't feel bad. Because he'd hurt me so many other times in the past, and in so much worse ways.

He walked over to me, gently grabbed my arm and guided me towards the swivel chair I'd found him in. "Sit. We need to talk."

"Talking only ever put us into more of a fix." I huffed, but obeyed him anyway.

He leaned back against the mixing board and stared directly in front of him at a blank wall.

"Your producer... Jay?"

"Yeah."

"He basically got fired today."

I wasn't sure how to take that. Jay was a great guy, but not necessarily the best producer. He just didn't know enough to do the job well. And as much as I liked him, it aggrivated me how much he didn't get my music.

I was about to shrug my shoulders and act indifferent, when I realized that it wasn't Georgia I was talking to, but Tommy. "Wait. How do you know this? And how come Georgia didn't tell me this? And when did this happen?" Suddenly I wanted to be in this room, talking to this guy. But only because of my curiosity, I reminded myself.

He tilted his head to the side, as if he wasn't sure how to word what he wanted to say. "Today. He lost his job today. I called Georgia."

"But why didn't she-" I didn't have to finish my sentence. I figured it out on my own. _Of course. He wants to produce for me again_.

Sitting in the chair, I'd become fairly more calm than I had been when I was on my feet. But I felt myself heating up again.

"So you decided to come back." My voice came out more calm than I had expected it to. It kind of scared me. I could tell it scared him too, because he raised his eyebrows and spoke a little more cautiously.

"Now that I'm a year into my solo career, things have calmed down a little bit. I have more time to do other things, like producing."

"...Right. So you decided to come back and produce me,_ why_?" I'm sounding like a major bitch, but I could hardly care less. I'm so confused, I feel my head's a freaking blender.

"Well... out of all of the singers I've produced, I found that I work with you best. And you have the greatest potential." He turned his body toward me. "Your second CD..."

"Was crap, I know." I folded my arms across my chest and dared him to agree.

"That's not true. I liked it. It just wasn't you. And that's why it didn't do as well as your first album."

"And what, you think you can fix that?" I laughed mockingly. "Tommy Quincy, the saint, here to save my career. Now he thinks he's good enough to juggle his life along with mine! This time, without dropping one." I looked him in the eyes and saw him wince.

"Your last producer didn't understand you like I can. He didn't give you enough freedom or anything else you needed."

"Right, but you can certainly give me enough _freedom_." I stood up and headed for the door, eager for the conversation to end. "And right now, to return the favor, I think I'll give you some _freedom_. How about you _not_ produce me?"

He followed me toward the door. "Jude, come on, don't be this way."

"What way?" I snapped. I wasn't exactly feigning innocence by my tone of voice.

"Maybe we need to start fresh, everything new-"

"Because you want me to forget. Because you _always_ want me to forget." I felt the lump forming in my throat and the tears before they came. _But I won't cry. I'm not crying another tear for him._

I opened the door and left in a haste, plastering on a fake smile and waving to anyone who greeted me. I walked as fast as I could without looking suspicious. Behind me I could hear Tommy calling my name.

I sped up as I got closer to the back exit of the building. But just as I was about to reach freedom-

"Jude, honey!" I stopped dead in my tracks. I felt my blood run cold.

I turned around, fake smile still plastered on my face. "Dad. How nice of you to come," I said stiffly.


	7. A Lot to Ask For

**A/N, Baby:** So this is only like 800 words, kinda short. I'm getting too far ahead in writing this story, to the point where I keep coming up with better ideas on where to make this go and I've written so much I haven't actually used just yet. I just got home maybe 45 minutes ago for the first time today and I'm exhausted. I'll hopefully be able to post tomorrow. R&R of course, you know I love it.

* * *

He had his arm wrapped around Yvette when I turned around but immediately let go of her to pull me into a hug. I didn't reciprocate. "Honey! Happy birthday. Gosh, look at you. You're so beautiful and grown up."

I pulled back as quickly as I could, fake smile still intact but slowly rubbing off. Yvette's smile, however, was much more genuine. "Jude, happy birthday. Your father and I bought you a gift..."she hands me a square box wrapped in light blue paper with white ribbon. I take it from her and give her a stiff thank you.

Out of the corner of my eye I see that Tommy's stopped dead in his tracks about 10 feet away. I silently prayed he would come interrupt us.

There was an awkwared silence in which I had a chance to plot my escape. "Well, it was nice of you guys to come." Even I could sense the hostility in my voice. "Maybe I'll see you again tonight. But for now I'd just like to get a breath of fresh air..."

"Understandable, sweetie. It is kind of stuffy in here, what with there being so many people... You really are the popular one, aren't you?"

"No Dad, that'd be Sadie." I said, before turning on my heel and heading once again towards the back exit.

Behind me I can sense Tommy's started the chase again. I'm about 10 paces

away from the door when I hear my dad exclaim Tommy's name. Good. That'll buy me some time.

I dissapeared behind the stage and quietly pushed open the door, stepping onto the fire exit. The same fire exit we stood on on that fateful night. Which I'd rather not think about tonight.

I leaned over the railing and looked out into the alley below. _So he's back. What am I gonna do now that he's back? What can I do?_ I was angry at myself for having so many questions. I was also angry because a tiny part of me, that tiny part I'd kept locked up so well until that morning, didn't regret that Tommy was back. In fact, that part of me was almost happy.

And I hated myself for that one part of me.

To my right, I heard the door creak open. I didn't have to bother to look to know it was him. "Can we not do this? Not now."

I turned to look at him, and he continued. "It's your birthday. I wished you a happy birthday in there 'cause that's what I really want you to have. Can we please just get through tonight without arguing?"

"That's a lot to ask for, Tommy. From me, anyway."

He stood next to me, arms over the railing. We spent a few minutes looking out into the same alley. Maybe even thinking the same things.

"If you're my producer now, that's all you're gonna be. If you wanted

something else out of me, you're not getting it."

"Okay." He shrugged it off, as if he expected me to say that.

"And don't think I'm lying."

"Okay." I couldn't tell if he really didn't care or if he was just pretending. "So we're not even gonna be friends?"

"How can we be," I said softly. After all we'd been through, he still wanted to be friends.

"We can try, Jude. It's important to me. And I'll bet anything our friendship is important to you, too."

"I hope you're betting that Viper of yours, 'cause you'd lose." I couldn't help but crack a joke.

He smiled and I got the urge to smile too. I bit my bottom lip and tried to hide it. "Maybe. I'd like to actually be friends with my producer. Me and Jay..."

"Didn't work so well. I know."

We spend a few more minutes in an almost companionable silence together. I

spend the whole time wondering what he's thinking, wondering what he wants from me. 'Cause it couldn't just possibly be producing, could it? No, he wanted something else. He wanted what he couldn't have before.

"I saw you talking to your dad and Yvette. You know, body language speaks a thousand words."

"Great! Then I said more than I thought I did. I was worried I was a little too quiet."

"Jude, I'm serious." He looked me in the eyes. This, in addition to how close he was standing to me, made me nervous. Butterflies in the stomach, foggy mind, the whole works. "It's been a long time..."

"I don't want to talk about this. Not with you. Or anyone, for that matter." I walked back to the door. "How I deal with my dad and Yvette, that's my own problem."

"Right. Whatever you say. But I gotta tell you... the tension? You could have cut it with a butter knife." He walked right past me and held the door open, gesturing for me to go in first.

_Seriously, who does this guy think he is?_


	8. In the End, I Always Do

Sorry I'm slow on the updates. I've been worked crazy, currently in my 3rd week of school, currently in a situation in the story better known as "**WRITER'S BLOCK**". But I'm working on it, I really am. I'm sure I'll get on track soon.

R&R please, 'cause as always, that's the kind of thing the writer likes. :)

* * *

I walked out on him that night. I couldn't stand being in the same room as him. How could he do this? He's back, and I can't understand how he took it all and ran away, and now decides to come back expecting me to pretend it never happened. They say you can't run away from your problems. Tommy obviously considered himself an exception to the rule. 

As I contemplated Tommy's return in bed one Saturday morning –18 and 2 months exactly- I put my words down on paper. Cryptic lyrics that nobody else would be able to interpret without the whole story. Because I'm not sure if I can put pen to paper on my raw emotions.

_Do you see how you've taken me this way?  
Torn me, broke me up inside  
Now here I am  
Writing just like everyone else  
And I'm writing it all for you  
In the end I always do_

I shoved the notebook away from me and laid my head down on the desk. The music can come later.

_Does he see what he's done to me?_

I wasn't sure what it was I needed anymore. Writing music had always been my escape. But when I need to write about Tommy, and my past? It'd be impossible to escape from him.

Maybe I was a tiny bit glad that he came back, but it hardly compensated for the past one and a half years of pain he left behind. He'd never make it up to me. He'd never understand how much it hurt to wake up one normal morning and find him gone.

Georgia knew. Georgia always knew. It was almost as if she expected it to happen. But I knew she'd never wanted it to happen. Nobody wanted it to happen, because as soon as it did, everything went out of control.

I hated that feeling. I hated being out of control.

But now I'm back in control. After finding Tommy's letter lying around in Studio B on morning, I kept it for a week. Read it until I had it memorized by heart. But over that week, I slowly grew more angry and less sad. By the time my heart was stone cold, I burned the letter in my backyard, I guess in hopes of releasing the demons. I forced myself to forget all about him, to put him in the back of my mind. I made myself hate him and everything about him.

I went into an emotions-free mode, to protect myself. I'd learned to build a wall around myself and how to keep my distance. My life had become ritualistic. Wake up, walk to school with Kat and Jaime, do the learning thing, come home and do homework. Go to the studio, record/write/mix/whatever, go home, sleep. My goal every morning was to make it to bed that night. I'd become almost inhuman, robotic to the point where even my emotions were nothing short of average. Okay would have been the best word to describe the way I'd felt. 'Okay' would have even described everything else I'd done during that time.

But still, I couldn't bring myself to erase his number from my phone. There was a part of me that hoped he'd come back, behind the anger.

By the time three months had passed, I accepted that he wasn't going to come back. I realized he wouldn't call, wouldn't email, wouldn't visit. But I put my game face back on and kept on "living". I told myself it didn't bother me that he was gone.

Your feelings are completely psychological, I learned. Because after a while I believed myself. I didn't miss him!

_But...Now he's back._

No matter how many times I'd said it, it's meaning hadn't changed. Still, I repeated it, almost as if it was a mantra, one that brought little comfort.

I wrote songs, a lot of songs. I wrote them for me and only me, and I had no intention of letting them reach anyone elses ears. Those songs were my release; songs Tommy didn't know about.

And I guess that's where the problem started. My songs that Tommy didn't know about. Because in G Major that afternoon, things weren't running so smoothly. Actually, things hadn't been going well for weeks.

"Jude, come _on_. We have to finish at least _one_ song this week. And I can tell your heart isn't in this." He put his hand up to his chest for emphasis.

I'd written roughly three songs that week, and it was still only Wednesday. They needed cleaning and plenty of work. But yeah, my heart wasn't in this song we were trying to write. We hadn't even gotten to the lyrics yet and I was already tired of it. Because it wasn't the release it normally was for me.

"I know. My mind's just in another place right now." Another place being at home, in my room with my guitar.

He sighed. "Jude. Focus. We haven't been getting any work done lately..." He grabbed me gently by the shoulders and shook me playfully. With a friendly laugh he said, "Am I going to have to Chinese Water Torture this out of you? I know you can do this, you won a song writing competition!"

"Maybe. Maybe that's just the motivation I need." I knew my voice bit back hard, but I told myself I didn't care. Considering I didn't care anything about Tommy...

This got another sigh. "You used to be a song writing machine. What happened?"

I gave him a look that was easily comparable to my voice just moments ago. Like you really need me to tell you. I could tell he was beginning to get exhasperated.

"We're hardly getting anything done. I may as well write your music myself!"

"Well then have fun with that! 'Cause isn't that what producers do?" I cried. I grabbed my purse from off the floor and stood up. Those days, just sitting in a room together with Tommy drove me mad. And making music with him? I would have rather not made anything with him.

And thank God I hadn't those past 2 years.

He doesn't call me back into the room as I leave. He's learned not to bother, because I never turn around.


	9. Blahhh I can't think of a title

Yeah, quick update, sorry I haven't been around lately. I've had so much to do and no time to write, but I promise I'll find some time to continue writing. I've been so off task lately it's kind of crazy. Read and Review please, and I hope everyone likes it. And I promise it gets good...

He showed up at my front door a few hours after my not-so-hot studio time. This took me by surprise, but I let him in anyway, taking him into the living room.

We're sitting, me on the couch and Tommy in an armchair, when he goes into All Apologies mode. "I of all people should know that musicians go into a kind of dry period," he says. Which in Tommy language could be considered an apology. "But you know Georgia was hoping for a fresh new song for Under the Mic this weekend. I guess I've just been pushing you too hard."

"I want a new song too, but music's just been hard for me lately," I lied. In my head, a different, much more satisfying conversation was going on between the two of us.

_Tommy- "I'm sorry I broke your heart while claiming to love you. I know things have been awkward, but I want us to fix it all._

_Me- "Um. I've been writing songs...We can pick one for Under the Mic."_

_Tommy- "I hate that I ever left you. I still love you with all my heart."_

...Unfortunately, reality isn't quite so... unrealistic?

"Jude. Jude! Are you even listening?"

"Huh. Yeah." I forced myself to turn and face him.

"Well, we gotta buckle down, girl. Find that place in your heart where this one song's hiding." His eyes suddenly got bright and he looked like he'd just had a Lightbulb moment. "We need to get you inspired. And I have the perfect plan."

"This better not involve self-inflictment of any kind, because I don't care what you say Tommy, I'm not-"

"No! I'd never ask you to do that. But how about a field trip instead?" he asked with a grin.

_Field trip with Tommy Quincy? No way._

---------

I'm not sure how he convinces me, or how I convince my mom, but the next day I've got a bag packed and I'm sitting in his Viper. And he _still_ hasn't told me the plan.

I just agreed to it so that he'd shut up and leave me alone, and we'd have a song done. But as soon as we were on the road, I began to regret it.

"Where are we going?" I asked for what may be the thousandth time. I figured that if I bothered him enough, he'd eventually break down. Maybe even change his mind and take me home.

He keeps his eyes on the road. Switches lanes. "You ever been camping before?"

He must have seen my eyes widen, because he quickly said, "Relax, relax. Camping doesn't necessarily mean tents. It's cabin. On a mountain. It's the perfect place, and you'll see why?"

"You can't just tell me why?" I relaxed back into my seat. For a second I was worried. I wasn't into real camping. I was bad at it. I couldn't put up a tent if my life depended on it, let alone sleep in it without thinking that a bear was about to maul me to death.

He chanced a secretive smile at me, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. "Nah. You'll just have to wait. And I promise it's worth it."

We speed along the highway. The hum of the car was lulling and it was a comfort to have Tommy right next to me. I let myself fall asleep and when I woke up, we were driving up a dirt road and the clock read 5:15. I guessed that we were driving up the mountain.

He noticed that I had woken up and said, "We're almost there. And perfect timing, too..."

I stretched a little in my seat. My legs were a little sore, but I didn't really feel like complaining. "So how do you know about this cabin?"

"It's mine. My little hideaway when I need some time alone. Perfect place for inspiration. And you'll see why."

I began to get impatient, wanting to know what was so miraculous about this cabin.


	10. Still

**That A/N thing:** Woohoo. I like this Chapter. Same disclaimer... I own the song I used in this chapter, though. Wrote it in August, and I figured it'd fit well here.

Tell me what you like, what you don't like, and what you ate for dinner tonight (Just kidding). But for the record, I had asparagus soup. It must be an asian thing. I really like it, though.

He's right. The cabin's absolutely perfect.

He parked his car, and we're somewhere between halfway and the top of the mountain. It's a beautiful sight.

"Perfect timing," he said, turning off the ignition and getting out of the car.

I probably gasped. He had the car facing the edge of the cliff the cabin was on, facing towards the city where we'd come from. It's a beautiful sight. There's trees, there's far-away lights, and there's a sun beginning to set. I see what's so special about the place.

He pulled my bags out of the back seat. "Want a tour of the actual cabin?"

"Can we just live out here?" I asked, almost in a daze. "It's just so beautiful..."

He laughed. "There might be sleeping bags in the cabin. If you _really_ want. I mean, there's wild animals and all..."

I know my eyes went wide, because he laughed again. "Get your guitar, and I'll give you the tour."

The cabin was beautiful, made of pinewood. It had that natural forest-y smell, and a lived in touch, for a cabin he rarely used. There was a brick fireplace in the living room, plenty of comfy seats and a full-equipped kitchen. 3 bedrooms, so I had nothing to worry about there.

"Just pick a room," he said. That wasn't so hard. I went with the one with the dark blue-and-white theme.

He wanted to make us dinner, said neither of us should work on an empty stomach. But neither of us was really that hungry. I was crazy eager to get back outside and watch that sunset. This place really was inspiration.

He leads me outside and we sit on the hood of his car. I'm amazed at how lax he is about this, considering how he's normally paranoid about his Viper.

"It's a beautiful sunset."

"It is," he agreed. "And I bet you feel inspired."

I smile, a soft smile. "Being out here... is incredible."

"That's why I brought you here. Look at all of this." He waves around, at all of the freedom before us. "With an exception for this car-" I can't help but laugh. "-This is all nature. Out here, there's nothing holding you back. You've got the whole _world_ to contain your feelings. Let them out. Open your heart."

I thought about it for a minute. "Nothing holding me back," I repeated.

"Absolutely nothing. Speak your mind, Jude. There's nothing out here but raw, heartfelt feeling."

I could tell we were having A Moment. There was a lull in the conversation, and I could swear I could hear my heartbeat. _There's nothing holding you back._

I take the silence as an oppurtunity to tune my guitar. He drummed his fingers along the hood of his car, then leaned back against the windshield, hands behind his head. Eyes closed. I guessed he was trying to relax.

I tried to pretend he wasn't listening.

"_Still/We never truly got to know each other/And it always, always makes me cry..."_

I watched the sun; slowly creeping it's away underneath the horizon. I could see the city lights in the distance. Around here, there were no lights. I had the darkness to hide me.

I watched the shadows dance across Tommy's face. His eyes were closed, and he had a serene look on his face. I'm not sure how I feel. I just kept strumming my guitar.

"_And we won't make the same mistakes again/No, we won't have to hurt this way again..."_

His eyed stayed closed. I stopped to write down the lyrics, along with the chord progressions. I felt a good song coming along, something true. Tommy was right.

"_I guess I could never forgive you because of myself/We're torn between expressing ourselves/And loving someone else/I've been waiting for you every day/But I know you're not awake..."_

His eyes are open now, and he watches me carefully. It's hard to read his expression, so I ignore him. I watched everything else around me. The sun's last rays, the leaves rustling from the wind.

"_And we won't make the same mistakes again/No, we won't have to hurt this way again..."_

He sat up, leaning his weight now against his palms, flat on the smooth surface of the car. He watched me with eyes like a hawk's. I closed my own, lost in my own world.

"_And still/We've been leaving things unsaid/But as long as I don't let myself remember/As long as I don't have a reminder/We won't make the same mistakes again/No, we won't have to hurt this way again."_

I opened my eyes and looked right into his. His face is just inches from mine. I'm not sure what to do, so I turned away. My heartbeat rebels against the tempo of my lament. His hand reached for mine, but I quickly snatched up my notebook. "I need to write this down." I said. "Before I forget it. It's good..."

"Jude..." His voice, deep and husky, made me nervous.

"Damn, what was the last chord?" I tried to focus on my lyrics, but his eyes bore holes into my head."

He sat up fully now, and gently took my notebook out of my hands. His touch sent shivers up my spine. My pen fell out of my hand and rolled away.

_Oh, no. No, no, no_. Warning bells went off in my head. _Bad idea, Harrison, coming here like this... now look what you've gotten into..._

I didn't have much more time to think. He pulled my body towards his. Just the feel of his body heat sent my heart racing about ten times faster. And when his lips finally pressed against mine, I thought it stopped completely. I thought I gasped. I thought I ran out of air the instant our lips made contact.

No cheesy cliche could describe this feeling. His hands left my back and came around to find mine. He held them gently, as if I were so fragile his touch would break me. When we pulled apart, I was afraid to open my eyes.


	11. So Much Left Unsaid

Hi, all.

I know the story hasn't been updated since last October (5 months, woo, I'm really good at this procrastinating thing). Anyway, I was inspired to reread and fix/finish the story... so here is the 12th chapter, revised, and there _will_ be more to come. It's just that when I reread the fic I realized that this chapter didn't fit with the story.

I should be updating again some time next week, but this one's long-ish which I hope you guys like.

Enjoy, read, review, and I'm sorry it took so long for me to update!

* * *

_Don't open your eyes._

They're squeezed shut. I could feel his body heat right next to mine. With my eyes closed, all of my other senses took over. The smell of pine became almost overwhelming. The feel of the smooth metal under my hands. The guitar in my lap. The air, now cool from the sun's descent.

I'm not sure what to think. I'm not even sure if I want to think. I'm scared beyond words of what's about to happen next.

When I opened my eyes, his were still closed. I wasn't sure how to read the expression on his face, which was twisted, contorted to show all sorts of signs. Fear? Anger? Hate?

No, he couldn't possibly hate me...

But maybe that was a possibility. I had never been more scared in my life than that one moment. In the silence, I could hear his labored breathing with mine. When he finally spoke, his eyes stayed closed, and he remained motionless with the exception of his lips.

"It's getting cold. You should go inside."

"Come with me," I replied. My voice came out childish and unsure, and I immediately cursed myself for it.

He opened his eyes and looked right at me. I could feel the way he looked at me. I wasn't sure if I'd shuddered out of fear or relief.

He shook his head slowly. "You go on in. Maybe make some cocoa."

There's an extended awkward silence as I leave. My footsteps nearly deafen me in comparison to everything else surrounding me. What was going on in his head?

Everything after that for a good hour or so was blurry. I made myself some cocoa, curled up on a couch and stared into space. When I finally took my eyes off a blank spot on the wall, a clock told me that it was 9:17. And Tommy still wasn't inside.

I still hadn't been thinking properly at the time, and I'm not sure what brought me back outside. But I left the warmth of the cabin, armed with blankets and a second mug of cocoa. Not really sure what it was I was doing.

There he was where I'd left him, pretty much in the same exact position. He was looking out into the horizon, as if anticipating the sun's rise at any moment. I sat back up on the hood of his car and wrapped us up in blankets. He took the mug in his hands without really looking at it.

"Maybe... this wasn't such a good idea."

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to answer that. He's kind of off in his own world, and it's as if he's not even talking to me. Has he been talking to himself?

He gives a shiver and there's no denying he's cold. I pick up the two blankets and wrap them around our shoulders, holding the ends together in the front with my hands. But as soon as my skin's in contact with his, the night's plans are shot to hell.

And he knows it, too. I hear him mumble some nonsense, something about a warning, some swear words tossed in, too. He's breathing gets uneven again, and my heartbreat pounds in my chest. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, smelling his neck. His body's so incredibly warm, and I'm suddenly overcome by loneliness. Have I been this lonely the whole time?

All I know is, I don't want to be lonely anymore.

"This wasn't a good idea, at all."

I lifted my head from his shoulder and he looked me in the eye. Had I said that out loud?

He's got too much on his mind, I can tell. His eyes are clouded over and he's not making any sense.

"What wasn't a good idea?"

His arms found their way around my waist, slipping my shirt a good inch or two higher and exposing my skin. His hands were a little cold from being outside so long. I want to memorize the feel of them.

He buried his face in my hair and groaned. The way he was acting made me nervous.

"...Let's go inside. You're going to get sick."

He takes a deep breath and composes himself. As soon as he stands up I regret the suggestion to leave. His hands drop contact with my skin and I'm cold. He picked up his mug of cocoa and jumped off the car's hood. I picked up the blankets and we walked silently back into the cabin.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I splashed my face with ice cold water a few times. Anything to calm myself down. Anything to get rid of the incredible tension we'd uninentionally built.

"This is crazy," I muttered to myself.

By the time I came out of the bathroom he'd lit the fireplace. The warmth and the crackling of the wood were welcoming. I took a moment to make a mental image of Tommy standing there by the fireplace, hands in his pockets and a warm smile on his face. It filled my heart, seeing him like that.

I stepped into the living room and made myself present. His smile didn't waver from his lips, but I saw it escape his eyes. My smile probably didn't do any better.

He stayed standing, looking as uncomfortable as I felt.

"Come sit down, we should talk."

He shook his head firmly. "I'm fine. I think I should stand."

It relieves me that I'm not the only one who's unnerved.

He takes a deep breath. "This might take me a while. So just try and hear me out, okay?" I gave him a nod of consent and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. When he speaks, it comes out in a rush, like the breaking of a dam. And what he says is kind of unexpected.

"When I came back... I had every intention of doing anything to be with you. But I told myself on the airplane that I would take it slow, gain your trust again. And show you that I'm not as big of an ass as I was before."

He ran his hand through his hair. "I made myself swear I wasn't going to be stupid. And then I got back, I saw that it wasn't gonna be easy. I could tell you hated my guts."

I huff a little, and I'm about to tell him that he's still not forgiven. "No, wait, just hear me out. And then you can say whatever you want to me."

"Fine."

"I could tell you weren't ready to forgive me. And still aren't," he added. "But the thing is, Jude, you still don't understand why it is I left in the first place."

"Are you _kidding_ me?" I exclaimed. We were back to this again. One of the topics under our list of Things To Not Discuss.

"I didn't leave to hurt you! You should know that."

"Well, you did, and it hurt, Tommy! It hurt really bad..." I realized that I was losing my guard and quickly hardened back up. I wasn't going to let him get to me.

"Jude, I left because I needed to. Because I know stupid things like tonight would have happened a million times, and I would have fought it afterwards a million times and I would have hurt you a million times. I couldn't keep doing it. I hated knowing I was the reason you ached."

He's turned to face the fireplace again, talking to the flames. I curl into a ball on the couch, bringing my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms around my legs. And I keep my game face on.

"It wasn't just the solo career I wanted. I wanted to stop hurting you all the time." He turned to find me staring off into space, trying to block out my feelings as well as him.

He sighed, maybe exhasperated, maybe tired. Definately frustrated. "There's so many things I need to tell you, Jude. There isn't enough time left in the _world_ for me to explain."

"Then save your breath," I snapped. I swung my feet back on the floor and stood up. "The fact of the matter is, you _did_ leave, and that hurt me worse than anything else you'd ever done. So thank you, so much, for only making things worse."

I made my way towards the hallway so I could get to my bedroom, but he blocked my way. "Just let me finish! Jude, tonight..." he sighed. "Could you sit back down?"

I glared at him before walking back to the sofa and falling back onto it. He sat on the other end, leaving a good two foot gap between the two of us.

_Good._

"How many times have you gone on vacation, Jude?" he asked.

"What does this have to do with anything?" I'm really starting to get annoyed now. I'm tired, I'm frustrated, I'm feeling a million different things at once. And the fact that his voice was husky like he was about to cry, well, that just made things all the worse.

"Just tell me."

"I don't know, maybe four or five times."

He pauses for a moment to think before he speaks. "Then maybe you'll understand this. Going on vacation is like living a different life. You go somewhere you've never been before, meet people you've never met before, do things you've never done before. You're away from home, your friends and everything you know."

"When you're on a break away from your life, you can be whoever you want to be. And then you can return home and go back to your normal life. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember this part of you that you left wherever it was you visited. You know when you come back to that place, that a part of you is waiting for you, and you're ready to be whoever you want to be again."

"I guess you could call this a vacation. A break away from reality. We're on a mountain in the middle of nowhere, with nobody else around. You can be whoever we want to be. There are no restraints to who you are here." he finished.

I looked him in the eye. "So what you're telling me is that you kissed me because you know that when we leave it won't matter?" I knew that that wasn't what he meant, but I was still aggravated and wasn't going to let him off easy.

He didn't take the bait. "No. I kissed you because it's just you and me. Because your song moved me. Because I was stupid to leave a year and a half ago and now all I want is to be with you again. And no matter what stupid promises I made to myself about going slow with you, I'd be a liar to say I regret what just happened out there."

I'm silent. This is the most we've spoken in the two months he's been back. Or rather, the most he's spoken.

"You were right in that song. We always leave so much unsaid."

I leaned my head in my hand and scoffed, "Who says that it was about you and I?"

But the both of us know better. My guard is down, my emotions are running high and when I'm like this, I'm not much of a liar.

_It's always hard to lie around him._

"Look at me, Jude." I stare at the wall for a few more seconds, gathering myself up before looking him right in the eyes. But nothing could have prepared me for what he said next.

"I've missed you. For nearly two years, I've missed you. I was scared of facing my problems, so I ran. What was I supposed to do? Date a minor in the public eye, risk hurting your reputation and getting myself thrown in jail? Was I supposed to just accept the fact that I fell for a girl seven years younger than me?"

He grabbed my hand, holding it gently. "That's why I left. But I'm back now, and I want to resolve everything I left behind. Don't think that all this time I forgot about you. I thought about you every single day. You were always on my mind. I've lived every day since I met you waiting for you to turn eighteen so that this wouldn't feel so messed up."

We share a moment of silence, one of a thousand since he's come back. I'm pretty much shocked into submission, so when he closes the space between us on the couch, I can't protest.

"Give me another chance, Jude. No more lies. Forgive me."

_He's stupid if he thinks I don't want this. I'm stupid if I let myself want this._

"What do you want from me, Tommy?" I pulled my hand back and looked away.

He thought for a moment. "I'm selfish. I want so much. But I can't have it all. All I'm asking for is forgiveness. I want to get back in the studio with you on Monday and work to write amazing music together. I want to make you happy, and a star, I want everything for you. I want to be your producer and your friend again."

My heart sunk but I shook the feeling off. "And is that all you want from me?"

"For now, yeah."

Silence.

"And there's nothing else?"

"There is. But right now that's not something we should worry about. Right now we should worry about there being a 'we' at all."

My head is fogging over and I'm confused as all get out.

_This is too much_.

I could almost swear he was going to confess his love to me, or something. Part of me was hoping for it. The other part was relieved that he hadn't thrown so much at me. But still, he had kissed me, and now he was saying he didn't want anything else yet?

_Here's to Tommy Q. He's as confusing as ever._

"I think I'm going to go to bed," I heared finally reply.

I could see the dissapointment in his eyes, mixed with hurt. But none of it completely registered, because I still trying to understand his speech. Everything had been so blunt, so un Tommy-like that it was hard to believe any of it was true.

_It could all just be lies. He could have become one hell of a liar while he was gone._

I walked back to my room in a daze, all the while feeling his eyes bore into my back.

I needed space. I can never think clearly when I'm around him.


End file.
